


Why there isn't a poison type legendary pokemon?

by KingFranPetty



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Perspective, Apocalypse, Not Canon Compliant, Nuclear Warfare, Nuclear Weapons, Nuclear Winter, Pokemon - Freeform, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Nuclear War, Tags Contain Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 23:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17538347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingFranPetty/pseuds/KingFranPetty
Summary: Let's answer the title question with my own little ideas.





	Why there isn't a poison type legendary pokemon?

Year zero, generation zero. Before the war. 

A new kind of fear fulled the air of the whole world. War hadn't changed but the weapons used in the it did. To ease the breath in their lungs, leaders talked big games. That they had chosen wisely. The others beyond their borders were unlike them and evil creatures that had forced the whole wide world into this terrible war. Bombs were aimed in all directions in panicked times. These weren't normal bombs. Some said just one unleashed terror and hellish flames. Enough could end the complete human kind. Fewer said that the existence of one and it's planned usage had already ended human kindness. 

Still the leaders stood unable to push. And that's where and when the similarities between our worlds end. In your world, everyone keep standing never pushing down the nail in humanity's coffin. Unfortunately, ours did. It really did not matter who first pressed down. A lot of things stopped mattering. Terror does that sometimes. Especially in such large amounts of it. 

Year one. Generation zero. The war starts. 

They were right about the hell ish flames. Upon the first bomb, it was like the universe stood still. Nobody dared move an inch. Yet just like that, the universe ran on fast forward. Metal shells dropped like rain in spring. So many hide and run but far too late. Have you ever felt your flesh melting off your bones? Seen your body turn to ashes? Slowly rotted in flames that could never be unlit? 

It was surpising how many bodies the flames left behind. Everyday a new person died from a fire long passed. They were right to say the flames were hell ish, for these bombs brought hell to the living. People tried to pick up the pieces to life. They believed after the first wave, none would be so cruel nor foolish enough to continue the war. 

The people were wrong. The year hadn't even ended yet before the next wave happened. It was mostly smaller places hit now and with far fewer bombs. However these were the bigger bombs. The ones leaders used when they thought to appear more powerful. The kind one uses to show off. So this time, The burning hell like claws reached far but not far enough to stop who was left behind from dethroning their kings. 

Year two. Generation zero. War ends. 

Human beings had been since back a few steps in technology. People panicked still but this too was fading away. The death toll crawled down yet hadn't stopped fully. The pieces were finally getting glued back together as life marched on. And yet, life didn't find a way to start a new. The fires hadn't ended it's shadow of destruction quite yet. Oh far from it, dearest Reader. You see, my loveable Reader, we're just getting started here. 

At first the babies came out with odd deformities and would stop breathing after a short time. After a while, they stopped having babies all together as less and less found the capabilities to do so. The few left that could only had the ones like the first time. Rarer still were the ones that continued to breathe. Something wasn't right at all. Something was terribly wrong. The realization hit harder than the first wave of bombs. They were right about enough bombs being able to end human kind. And suddenly the world was a dark, lonely, and colder place. 

 

Generation one. The death of mankind. 

Most animals were effected much like the human population. Slowly burning away. Yet there was a kind of twist. The pokemon weren't. Even before the war, the legendary pokemon had ran. Nobody could tell where to. Some swear the stars. All those who could see the future, took what they could and disappeared. Grass, Bug, Normal, Fairy, Water, Fighting, Flying, Dragon, Ice were hit as akin to the humans and animals. Some even worst. The ghosts seemed to lack death. The Psychic again had all disappeared long before the war. Steel had heated but remained surprisingly alive. 

Rock and Ground continued as where there was earth to stand upon, they would prevail. Electric and fire knew the same fate. Some were even powered by these new flames that never unlit on their own. However, there was something not right about the dark and poison. The ghosts were the only ones still able to speak as humans did in most part. They told that the bombs had done something terrifying to the dark and poison. Something wrong on a fundamental level. That whatever it was. The dark and poison would change into something strange. 

None other than the ghosts knew the true meaning of those words. It was as if all the others were like animals. It's just that the ghosts knew only what those who watched the world end twice can. About the nature of poisons and darkness. These words aren't throw aside or forgotten. 

Generation two. Different typing. 

Fires contined as electric dropped in number. Stil as a whole the types that survived keep on surviving. Still the bombs with those fires unable to be unlit twisted the life after their creation. Ghosts grew in numbers. Rocks and Ground gained odd quality, glowing dimly. The dark and poison were starting to fuse together into a different type beyond what the two were before. A typing that seemly infected every single lifeform upon the planet's surface. I guess it is like a a new normal for life after the bombs. 

A typing I call "Radioactive." But let us leave that chestnut aside for a moment and answer our first question. Why are there no poison legendary pokemon? From the ground zero a life awoke from it's birth. A birth boiled in green glowing liquid fire feeding upon a thousand chemicals and dead bodies. At first it merely swirms about it this horrific pollution pool of pure damnation but as time past, it knew hunger. 

The creature stood on legs, of which were too thin to support something so tall. Yet there it walked in search of something to ease it hungry gluttony. The beast would reasonably be guessed a god in the wastelands. However, it was only a middle level legendary pokemon. Notably different from all others holding such a title. Even different across the whole wide world at this point. As there were spare few that could still be called poison type.


End file.
